They All Lived Story 60: Shift in Perspective
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Sept-Nov 1977. Edward's Grandson, Ian, must deal with a painful dose of reality that makes him look at family, friends, and life in new ways. His trauma brings up elements of Ed's past. Can Edward and Aldon help him get through it? Will Ian give up his acting career?
1. Chapter 1

**September 5****th****, 1977**

"Sorry Dad, draw four," Callie grinned as she slapped down her card. "And I change the suit to clubs!"

"Not again!" Aldon groaned, though it was all in good nature as he drew four cards. He had been only two cards away from winning. But then, he had done the same thing to Callie only four rounds earlier. All was fair in love and crazy eights.

"Thanks, sis." Ted looked smug as he put down the four of clubs.

"I wasn't doing it to help you," Callie stuck her tongue out at her brother.

"No, but she might have been doing it to help me," Cassie commented with a serene smile as she set down the nine of clubs.

The phone rang. "Oh. Hold on, I'll get it." Aldon turned his cards over, set them down on the table, and went to the phone. He loved Friday evenings at home. Unless there was an emergency, Cassie would be home, he wouldn't have Mayoral duties to attend to, and the kids had all weekend to do their homework. Sometimes his parents joined them, but just as often they had other plans.

"Good evening, Elric residence," he spoke formally into the phone, hoping it wasn't something that would call him away from evening family time.

"Is this Mr. Aldon Elric?" The voice on the line was unfamiliar.

"This is he."

"I'm sorry to bother you this evening. This is Officer Tyrell, East City PD. Your son, Ian, was involved in a car accident last night."

A cold ball formed in his gut as Aldon stopped breathing for a moment. "Is he all right? What happened? Last night!"

"We had to identify everyone involved," the officer replied apologetically. "He was a passenger in a two vehicle collision. He is currently in the ICU at East City Hospital."

Alive, Ian was alive. Thank goodness. East City; that was where they'd been filming the last few scenes of his new movie. "Is he in trouble officer?"

"No, Mr. Elric," Officer Tyrell replied. "He was just the passenger. But there were two fatalities in the incident. When he's up to it, we will want him to answer a few questions for the report. If you need more information, I can give you the hospital phone number."

"Yes please." As grateful as he was Ian was alive, Aldon couldn't shake the feeling of dread tightening his shoulders. He took down the number the officer gave him and answered another couple of questions. "I'm on my way. Thank you, Officer."

When Aldon turned around, no one at the table was smiling. Clearly they had heard just enough to know that there was something wrong, and the police were involved. Callie looked scared. Aldon took a deep breath. "Ian's been in an accident," he explained simply. "He's going to be okay, but he's in the hospital. I'll be leaving on the next train to go take care of things."

"Of course." Cassie stood up, and hugged him tightly. "He's okay? You're sure?"

"The police officer assured me that Ian would be fine," Aldon replied, though the officer hadn't been as assuring as he would have liked. "I've got the hospital's phone number too. It's okay. Now, I need to call the station and find out when the soonest train to East City is leaving."

"I'll help you pack." Cassie straightened up, and used her hand to wipe a tear from one eye.

Ted and Callie came out of their stunned silence with a sudden burst of action. Callie started putting up the game. Ted stood up. "I know you're going to need the phone a while. I'll run over and tell Grandma and Grandpa."

The run would do him good. Aldon nodded. "That would be useful. Tell them they can call in about half an hour. I should be off the phone by then."

Ted didn't even grab a jacket as he darted out into the cool evening air. It wasn't dark just yet.

Aldon watched Cassie hurry upstairs then he went back to the phone. He'd call the station first, then the hospital.

**September 6****th****, 1977**

Aldon had never been so grateful for a late night, last minute express-run train ticket. It didn't matter that it was a hard bench, or that it was late enough the food car was only serving coffee and that morning's leftover donuts. He couldn't have slept anyway. The hospital hadn't given him much more information over the phone. Just Ian's room number and that he was in stable condition at the moment.

Aldon didn't like the way they said at the moment. But he hadn't argued. He didn't sleep on the train. His suitcase, hastily but expertly packed by Cassie in under an hour, was stuffed under the seat as the landscape darted by in the dark, then the blush of dawn, and on into daylight.

It was possible to subsist on coffee and donuts.

The express train made far fewer stops, and Aldon was stepping down onto the platform in East City before dinner. Impressive, he thought, given it used to be a two to three day trip.

There were plenty of taxis. Aldon hailed one and was at the hospital in under fifteen minutes.

"Mr. Elric. I'm Doctor Ardennes," a woman about his age with dark hair in a no-nonsense bun and a kind smile held out her hand when he arrived on the floor and arrived at the nurse's station desk. "We spoke last night."

"Yes, we did. How's my son?" Cassie might have hit him for the brusque attitude, but Aldon wasn't going to relax until he saw Ian for himself.

"Stable," she replied as they shook hands. "He regained consciousness this morning on his own, though he's been sleeping most of the day. He's got a mild concussion, and three broken ribs, two on the left, one on the right. There's been some straining of the back and spine. Fortunately, he was in the back seat with his seatbelt on."

"Do they know what caused the accident in the first place?" Aldon asked. The police hadn't given him much to work with and he hadn't had a chance to call them back.

The Doctor's lips pressed into a firm line. "Well, most of the passengers were drunk. The driver, however, was high."

His stomach lurched. "High?" Why would Ian have ever gotten in a car with an impaired driver? _She just said all the passengers were drunk, _his mind recalled unpleasantly. "So it was the driver's fault."

The Doctor nodded. "They ran a light and hit another car almost head-on at an intersection. Your son is lucky, Mr. Elric, he's one of the two people who survived the crash. Both drivers were killed on impact."

Aldon felt sick. "Two?"

"The other passenger is here. I cannot comment on his condition."

"I understand." Aldon swallowed. "I want to see Ian."

"Of course. This way." The Doctor led him down the hall and turned into a room on the left hand side of the hallway.

Aldon tried to be ready for the sight in front of him, but he still hissed sharply, an intake of breath, when he saw Ian lying in the bed. Both of his son's eyes were blackened, the rest of his skin pale save where he could see a few livid bruises. Most of his face was bruised, or cut, there were several small cuts, treated and covered, which Aldon presumed were made by shattering glass.

The rest of the injuries were hidden beneath the white sheets.

Ian's eyes opened slowly, just to slits. "Dad?" Ian blinked owlishly. "What are you doing here?"

An irrational wash of anger hit him. "That's a stupid question," Aldon replied gruffly. His son was foolish enough to get himself nearly killed, and he wondered what he was doing here. He crossed the room and sat down in the chair right by the bed on Ian's right side. "What happened?" he asked. He wanted to hear it, needed to hear it, from Ian's own mouth. What explanation could their possibly be?

Ian blinked again. Clearly, on top of being shaken, he was likely heavily medicated. "I… I'm not sure. It's fuzzy."

Aldon bit his tongue, fighting impatience. He didn't need to shout right now. That was a reflex. He was upset. He knew it.

After a moment, Ian continued. "I, well I'd had a few drinks, talks to some girls from wardrobe. We were done filming… at the wrap-up party, you know? We were getting ready to leave, an' Reggie offered to drive. Like he should. He was design…des… he was supposed to stay sober. His turn." He closed his eyes, licked dry lips, and went quiet for nearly a minute.

"On the way back to the hotel, something darted out in the street. Reggie swerved, lost control, and that's all I remember… other than a lot of screeching and pain. No one's told me anything yet."

He didn't know? "You ran a light and hit another car."

Ian's eyes opened wide and he tried to sit up, but a gasp of pain and he went limp in the bed again. One hand moved lightly over his ribs. "Oh hell…Is everyone else okay?"

Aldon sighed, and shook his head slowly. He hated being the one to tell Ian this. But there was no easy way. "The other driver's dead. Fortunately he was the only guy in the other car. It's totaled."

"What about Reggie and Gary?"

Aldon glanced up at the Doctor, who was still standing in the door. Doctor Ardennes looked sad. She shook her head on the first, then nodded towards the next room over.

"Gary's in the next room," Aldon translated, and the Doctor nodded affirmative. "He's about as beat up as you are."

That wasn't enough to pacify Ian, who now looked slightly frantic. "Reggie? Dad, what about Reggie?"

Aldon closed his eyes. He didn't want to have to tell his son this. He had only met the boy a couple of times. He'd seemed the capable, responsible type. He was one of Ian's closest friends. But… "He's dead, Ian."

No sound came out of Ian's open mouth for several seconds. When Aldon opened his eyes, there was shock and anguish on his son's face. "But…"

Aldon asked the tough question while Ian was off balance. "Did you know Reggie was high?"

That stopped Ian cold. Shock turned to horror. "No. I… I didn't know. He didn't look it. He, Reggie was sober! He wouldn't do drugs at a party. No… He… he was our designated driver! Why would he…? He couldn't have!"

Ian hadn't known. He honestly had no idea. For some selfish reason, that made Aldon feel better. Ian might be a great actor, but he wasn't a liar. "Well he was, Ian. They tested his blood, and yours, and Gary's." _I know you were drunk, boy. I'm not mad at you for that, though I doubt you'd believe me. But how could you be so drunk you missed your best friend was too drugged to drive?_ "If it helps, they think he was dead on impact."

"How is that supposed to help?" Ian glowered at him through his slit eyes.

"He didn't suffer."

Ian's mouth worked for several seconds with nothing else coming out. Emotions flittered across his battered face so quickly it was hard to identify one before it turned into another. "Dad I… can I be alone for a minute?"

Aldon felt his heart sink. "Sure." He didn't want to argue. Not now. He didn't want to shake sense into his son. He'd been hurt enough. He was still processing what happened. Aldon stood up. "I'll be right outside." As he turned towards the door, he noticed the glisten of a tear on Ian's cheek.

* * *

The salt-sting in his eyes hurt far worse than Ian expected, but he couldn't help but feel he deserved it in his blackened, blood-shot eyes. He was fairly sure that they had some heavy painkillers in the IV in his arm, because he didn't hurt nearly as much as he expected to. Even so, he felt like he'd been pounded with meat hammers all over.

Reggie.

_Why, man?_ _Why the hell? What were you thinking?_

Never in his life had it occurred to Ian that Reggie would even think of doing drugs. He wasn't even on any heavy medications or anything. He'd had no idea. They were best friends, right? Shouldn't he have noticed something wrong with his friend? But… Reggie. He'd tried to support him, to be there for him, even when his mother put down his lack of singular starring roles. Reggie had talent. He was good!

He _was_ good.

Ian couldn't remember the last time he'd cried so hard. The sobs wracked his already pain-ridden body. He cried anyway.

He wasn't sure how long he cried, but even his agony and his conflicted, aching heart couldn't keep him from slipping back off to sleep. When he awoke again, the window on the right wall was dark.

The door opened. Ian turned his head slightly. A pretty nurse smiled and set down his dinner tray. "Doctor's orders," she smiled, "Eat everything."

"Are you going to stay and help me eat it?" Ian asked hopefully, though he winced at how croaky his voice came out.

"Not tonight. Your father's here. He said he'd help."

Ian watched her go, perhaps a moment too long.

"She was just telling the girls at the nurse's station she's got a new boyfriend."

His view was blocked as his father walked in, and sat back down. "Oh."

Aldon picked up the bowl of what Ian learned was little better than gruel; cream of wheat or some such; warm, gloppy, and with little flavor. He grimaced, but swallowed bite after bite as his father offered it to him, alternating with sips of water. Ian wanted to argue that he could feed himself, but trying to sit up sent his sides and head to screaming, blinding agony. So he put up with being spoon fed.

"Doc says you can leave in a couple of days," his father said after several minutes, when most of the food was gone. "Much as it probably hurts, you're not in any danger of keeling over."

Well that was a nice way to put it. "Not like I can go back to the set," Ian grumbled, trying to sound like it was more of an annoyance than anything else. He hadn't seen his face in a mirror yet. He hadn't asked. But he'd slowly felt it with his hands that morning, when the nurses were out of the room. Thank goodness they'd finished filming first.

"Set?" His father scowled. "You'll come home while you recover." There was no question in his tone, no offering it as an option. There was no mistaking it was an order.

On another day, Ian would have argued vociferously. Today… "You want me?" he asked, mildly surprised. However much his father wasn't saying, Ian had always been able to read his father better than most anyone, except probably his mom. Still, he knew his Dad was upset. He was wearing his emotions far more openly than he usually did in formal situations. Knowing his old man, Aldon was probably furious at him for being drunk enough to miss Reggie's being high enough to get in a wreck.

Well Ian was beating up on himself enough for both of them.

"Of course I want you home," his father looked offended, then his expression and his tone softened. "You're my son. Damn it, Ian. I was scared shitless when that officer called and told me you'd been in a wreck! You almost died last night…" he cut off, throat tight with emotion.

Ian placed one hand over his father's. "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean it… like that."

"I know." His father sighed and set down the empty bowl. "And I'm sorry I've harped on you so much lately. I just…"

"This is what you wanted to keep from happening." Ian had no reason to deny it. He'd been stupid, even when he'd tried to be safe. He'd had a designated driver; one who'd never been unreliable. So was the mistake where he'd gone wrong misunderstanding his friend? Or was it being too drunk to notice? No one else had. At least, Gary hadn't. No one had stopped them on the way out.

He ought to feel angry at Reggie. Instead, all Ian felt was confusion, guilt, and pain. Reggie was dead.

"I called Urey while you were asleep," his father changed the topic after a long minute. "He's going to come by and visit when he gets out of his study session."

Just who he needed to see him like this. "What…did he say?"

"Just that he's worried about you," Aldon replied, then he smiled, the first Ian had seen him smile at all since his arrival. "I think he plans to save the clever remarks for seeing you face to face."

"Well, I might let him," Ian replied, trying to hide the sourness he felt. "For once, he'll look better than I do."

* * *

Urey arrived later than he had originally planned, thanks to delays. He was only a semester-and-a-half away from graduation, and so he spent a lot of time studying, writing papers, basically the majority of his time was spent with his nose in his books. Not at all unusual. Tonight, however, was one of the study sessions he hosted, and so he had gotten delayed helping someone work through complex equations. At least he felt sure now that Marvin would pass tomorrow's test.

When he arrived, he asked for his father, and found that he had gone to the hospital cafeteria to find food for himself. So Urey asked to be shown to Ian's room.

He was glad his father had warned him what to expect. Urey remembered the one time he'd lost his temper and hauled off and punched Ian in this face. This made that look like a tickle.

Ian was awake. "Oh come on, I don't look that bad," he quipped, though there was little energy behind the voice.

"You keep telling yourself that," Urey replied, though he smiled back. If Ian could make jokes, however weakly, he wasn't as bad off as he looked.

"I'm still cuter than whatever date you're missing to be here."

At that, Urey couldn't help a chuckle. "Nope, sorry. You're not nearly as cute. Lucky for you –and me- she's very forgiving."

Ian's face went blank a moment. "Hold on there. You're serious. Okay… spill it. Who's the girl? First date?"

Urey wondered if his ears were turning pink, but he crossed the room, his hand going for his pocket. He wasn't going to brag… no, but his brother had asked. "This is Cayla." It was hard not to shove the photo under his brother's nose, but Ian seemed as curious as Urey was eager to break the news to someone in the family. He wasn't ready to tell everyone, but Ian was different.

The picture of the petite blonde with the almost-pixie short hair and soft blue eyes was a relatively new acquisition, and he never went anywhere without it. She wore a conservative, but attractive lavender sweater in the picture.

She was cute, really cute. And even Ian acknowledged it, Urey thought, as his brother's eyes widened. "Wow, she's a hottie, Rey. And you've got a photo already. There's no way this was a first date."

"No," Urey admitted with a shake of his head. "We've been going out since the semester started, actually. She's in botany, so we have a class together."

"So my brother finally has a steady. I'm almost jealous," Ian replied, though he sounded like he might actually be. He relaxed a little and closed his eyes for a moment.

Urey watched, the flood of concerns that had filled him since his father had called ebbed and flared. "What were you thinking, Ian?"

"I wasn't," Ian replied simply. "I mean, I did but… damn it. I can't figure out what happened. I thought I knew Reggie. They tell me he was high! If you'd asked me, I'd have told you he'd never done something like that in his life. For all I know, maybe he hadn't. But I can't believe he'd have risked our lives like that… and yet it happened."

Urey hadn't seen Ian this upset in a long time. His brother sounded like he might cry at any moment, and probably had already. He tried to imagine being in Ian's position, and it wasn't pretty. "You can't be responsible for everyone, Ian," he said, aware of how odd that sounded, saying it to Ian of all people. "Maybe you missed something. Maybe he was hiding it. The what-ifs are going to drive you crazy. Heal, rest, and face them with a clear mind. Right now you definitely don't have one. I'm just glad you're alive." He bent down and gave Ian a gentler-than-usual brotherly hug. He didn't want to hurt him.

Ian returned the hug, though there wasn't much strength behind it. "Yeah, me too."


	2. Chapter 2

**September 10****th****, 1977**

It had been a while since Ian had been back to Resembool. Filming for his and Reggie's latest film, a quirky road-trip adventure spy coming of age mystery flick… if he tried to peg it down, had roamed from the beaches of Creta all the way across the continent to East City, even including a jaunt out to the edge of the desert for a few critical scenes.

Resembool seemed even smaller compared to the vast and sophisticated cities of Creta, Aerugo, and all the places he had been that were unfamiliar and grand. His childhood home, not quite an idyllic country paradise, but far more rustic than he had thought it, even when he'd moved to Central.

The sun was warm as he sat in the back of Grandpa Ed's car. He met Ian and Aldon at the train station, and drove them the relatively short distance –it was only a couple of miles on foot- to the yellow house on the hill. The breeze was cool, the sky crisp and blue, the grass still green, though the leaves on the trees were a riot of emerging fall colors already; red and gold and orange starting to overcome the verdant hues of summer. The air smelled of grass and water and a hint of sheep.

Yep, he was home.

There was a small crowd waiting for him on the front lawn. His mother, Ted, Callie, Grandma Winry, Reichart and Deanna and their three kids, Rhiana, Owen, and Cailean. Then there was Grandpa's giant white dog, Mal, who was almost another person by himself.

The person who surprised him most was the one who came out of the crowd first and showed up by the car door as Grandpa came to a stop in the drive.

"Uncle Ethan?" Ian looked up, startled. He hadn't expected to see him. No one had told him he was anywhere other than up in Central.

His uncle grinned. "Why do you look so surprised? I was on the train as soon as your Dad called."

Aldon and Grandpa Ed were already getting out of the car.

Ian grimaced at the wheelchair his father pulled out of the back. He'd tolerated it in East City, because it got him out of the hospital, but he'd much rather use the walking stick that they had also given him. He only had to use either until he could walk without pain and without straining his back any further, but he was ready to be done with both already. "I didn't know he called," he admitted, opening the door and pulling out the walking stick before anyone could try and insist he ride in that annoying chair. He hated feeling like an invalid.

"Well he thought my expertise might be useful," Ethan replied. "That, and we've all been worried."

Expertise… "You're going to fix everything?"

"Well, not everything," Ethan replied with an apologetic expression. "I don't want to mess with your head too much. That's risky business, but I should be able to do something about your back, your ribs, and your dashing good looks."

Ian paused as he got upright. In his guilt and grief over what happened, he'd almost forgotten about the mess his face was in. He'd taken a look at it, once, before leaving the hospital, and he'd rather wished he hadn't. "Wow. Can you do it right now?"

"I think we'd better get you inside first. Healing is probably going to leave you feeling even more wrung out than you are right now for a few days." Ethan looked amused by his impatient eagerness.

That made sense. "Right." Ian leaned on the walking stick, and made his way slowly towards the door, and through the gauntlet of well-meaning gushing, gentle hugs, and then a scramble as folks grabbed his bags –collected from his hotel by Aldon- and he was escorted inside, and ensconced –not in his upstairs room- but in one of the downstairs guest rooms, where he could get easily in and out without having to take the stairs.

Another time, his ego might have required him to complain, but not today. Ian had to admit that even the short walk in from the car was a bit much. He sat down on the edge of the bed, back aching, head no better, and let everyone put his things away, offer him a drink, a snack, another hug, a kiss on the cheek, a nose in the face (that from the dog), and then, in a rush, the room was temporarily devoid of other people.

Startled by the sudden exodus, Ian took a moment to just sit, and compose his thoughts. Normally the family whirlwind wasn't more than a light breeze to him, but today, after the quiet of the hospital and the dramatic and sudden shift in life, it was slightly overwhelming.

His mother returned first, with a tray containing a small heap of fresh homemade chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, and a tall glass of milk. She smiled softly, though he could see by the worry lines around her eyes, and circles he had never seen there before, that she had been anxious. He wondered if she had slept much. "Here you go. They're still warm." She set the plate down on the bedside table, and then the next thing Ian knew, he was enveloped in another warm, firm, motherly hug. "Oh my baby," she whispered, and he thought she might cry.

"I'm okay, Mom," he reassured her, though his voice cracked slightly as he returned the hug. "Okay, I'm not entirely okay. But I'm here, and I'll live." He couldn't say much for his state of mind, or his self-confidence. He didn't feel like a very good friend at the moment.

"So they assure me," she said, straightening enough so that he could see her face, which was smiling through unshed tears. "But I had to see for myself." One hand moved to his face, and the smile slipped.

"Uncle Ethan says he can save my career," Ian chuckled. "It's just a face, Mom. I'm sure it'll be fine. Even if there's some scarring I can just do some tough-guy adventure roles."

"Oh I think I'm good enough to keep there from being scarring," Ethan commented from the door way. "You ready for a little help?"

"Anything to keep me out of that damned wheelchair," Ian replied eagerly as his mother stood up and got out of the way.

"Lie down." Ethan crossed the room, wrapping a silk cloth around his hand as he approached. Ian recognized a transmutation circle dyed on the fabric. He didn't know what it meant, other than it was clearly for healing. "You'll probably be dizzy."

Ian did not object. He lay down and closed his eyes. A moment later he felt his uncle's hand lightly on his chest, and then felt a slight warming, tingling sensation throughout his entire body. He wasn't sure what was happening, but after about half a minute, the sensation intensified, and the throbbing in his head and the pain in his back both eased, and his face felt particularly tingly. Then the sensation went away, taking with it most of the pain in his back, until all he felt was an ache that could have been fatigue more than damage. His head still thudded dully, but his equilibrium felt more solid, and the headache was far less irritating. "That it?"

"That's it," Ethan replied, and Ian opened his eyes. "How do you feel?"

"Better," Ian replied. "A lot. I think I could actually walk without that stupid cane." He went to move, but his head began to swim a little, and he lay back down with a twinge of disappointment.

"Not so fast there," Ethan shook his head. "Everything's still fresh healed. The rest you've got to do on your own, and like I said, I'm not messing with your head any more than is safe. Brain work is not my specialty. I did what I could for anything around that."

"The headache's better at least," Ian replied without nodding. Then his stomach growled loudly, a rippling he felt through most of his body. "I think I'd like those cookies now."

His mother chuckled, and Ethan grinned. "Could I have some of those please, Cassie? After that, I've worked up an appetite myself."

"As if either of you ever needed an excuse," Cassie teased her brother-in-law. "Of course, Ethan. Thank you. Looking at him, you'd almost never know he was hurt now." She turned and left the room.

"Is my face back to normal?" Ian asked, suddenly eager to see for himself. It certainly felt better, as if the bruising were gone.

"Near enough." Ethan picked up a hand mirror lying on the guest bedside table and handed it over.

Ian felt a surprising amount of relief as he looked at his newly healed face. The cuts from the glass –two of which had required several stitches- were almost entirely gone. The worst two were thin healed lines, as if the event had been months ago, and they really did look like they would fade more with time. The bruising and the raccoon-black mask around his eyes were gone, leaving a familiar face that would still be perfectly passable on screen before long. "You're amazing."

"I'll take that as a thank you," Ethan laughed. "And you're welcome."

He was lucky to have an uncle who was an alchemical doctor. That thought reminded Ian of Gary, still lying in the hospital in East City. He had stabilized and been healing, but his injuries had been worse than Ian's, and it wasn't sure when he'd be out. If Ethan had come to East City instead… but then, maybe that hadn't been possible. And there was nothing to be done for Reggie.

"Okay, spit it out."

Ian looked up, surprised. "What?"

His uncle was looking at him with a knowing expression. Ethan sat down on the edge of the bed, facing him. "I know that look. I've seen it on thousands of patients. It wasn't your fault, and what's done is done. There's little you could have done to change the situation once it was underway, and you weren't in a frame of mind to do it. But from what Aldon told me, you didn't have the information to know you were in a bad situation until it was too late. It was an accident, and the only one who failed anybody was your friend behind the wheel. It won't stop the survivor's guilt, but you might as well accept that fact now."

"No!" Ian shouted, startling himself with his veracity. "How can I dump it all on him? I didn't notice something was wrong, but it's not just that he was off tonight. How long was it going on? Why would he be that stupid in the first place? What kind of a friend am I that I didn't notice he was hurting that bad? I thought he was doing all right. I tried to help him out, encourage him. I thought things were getting better…"

"And he didn't tell you."

"Well, obviously not."

"Then the burden's still on him, Ian," Ethan replied, his tone patient but firm. "No one can read minds, and it sounds like you did a lot for him. If you didn't know, it's because he was good at hiding it. He was probably hiding some deeper pain. Given the profession you're in, I wouldn't think it would be that hard for someone to pretend to be okay for a friend. Maybe he didn't want you to worry about him."

"I don't care why he did it!" Ian exclaimed, with more emotion than he'd intended. "It was stupid and now he's dead and I can't even tell him he's a damned idiot, or try and help him. It's… too late." A wave of dizziness moved over him and Ian cut off and closed his eyes, glad he was already lying down.

"Easy." He felt Ethan's hand on his shoulder. "You've still got a lot of healing to do, and beating yourself up over this isn't going to help matters. You've been through a lot and you've lost a good friend. Grieve, but don't get caught up in all the what-ifs." There was a moment's pause. "And if you want to ask someone about why he did it, you might talk to Dad."

"Grandpa?" Ian opened his eyes, puzzled. What did his grandfather have to do with this?

"He knew a guy," Ethan said, though he didn't elaborate. "So if you want to talk to someone, I'd start with him."

There was a soft knock on the doorjamb, and Ian glanced past his uncle to find his mother in the doorway with more cookies. She smiled softly.

Ethan smiled back and stood, his hand leaving Ian's shoulder as he turned and took the plate. "Thanks, Cassie. You're a lifesaver."

"If I didn't know you, I'd think you were exaggerating," she chuckled. "Now eat those before _you_ pass out."

"Yes ma'am." Ethan glanced back. "I'll be back to check on you in a little while. I expect you to be a good patient. Got that?"

"Yeah." Ian nodded very subtly. "Thanks."

Ethan's expression softened. "You're welcome."

* * *

Cassie followed Ethan out of the room, leaving Ian alone to rest. She hoped he would fall asleep as soon as he finished eating; he was clearly exhausted, and still emotionally distraught. The past few days had been worse, so much worse, than the time they had almost lost him and his friends in the mine collapse. Her mind had painted images of the car crash over and over, awake and asleep, and even though she knew intellectually that Ian would be fine –Aldon had called her daily with positive reports- that hadn't kept her from imagining the worst happening to her second-to-youngest son.

"Are you all right?"

She paused, and realized that Ethan was speaking to her, his expression full of sympathy. "Better now that he's home. Thank you for healing him, Ethan. When I saw his face… I know it doesn't really matter compared to as bad as it could have been but…"

"But he shouldn't have to live with the reminders," Ethan placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "He'll have enough time healing the hurt to the heart. Besides, I don't think this is going to convince him to give up the career he loves, even if it does teach him a little caution."

The hard way. Cassie nodded. "I hope so."

"I'm going to head up to Mom and Dad's," Ethan smiled. "If you need me, just call."

"We will." Cassie walked him out into the kitchen. By the time they got there, Ethan had polished off his cookies, and he rinsed the plate in the sink before leaving.

It was only when he was gone that Cassie realized she hadn't seen Aldon in some time, and it was about time to start dinner.

Except that she could smell something, cooking? She walked over to the oven, which was definitely on, and hit the oven light. Inside it lasagna was baking.

Then she noticed the note on the table. _Put dinner in. Hope you don't mind. Took the little guys outside to play. Deanna said she'd be back in a bit. ~Ted and Callie _

So they had Art and Deanna's kids outside on the play set. Cassie poked her head outside and saw them playing, very carefully, with the little ones in the sand box. She couldn't help smiling.

So where was Aldon? Taking a guess, Cassie went out to his workshop.

Aldon was sitting on one of his work benches, not working on anything in particular. He had the big rolling doors open on the back –for moving large machinery in and out of the building- and was staring out at the rolling hills that led down to the forest and river below.

"It's just me," Cassie announced herself softly as his head jerked around.

Aldon smiled softly, and held out an arm, an open invitation for a hug they both needed.

Cassie snuggled against him and sat down. "Are you all right?" Hiding out in his workshop and not working was usually a sign of something on his mind.  
Aldon sipped the bottle of cola in his hand. "I'm getting there. Dealing with a lot of mixed feelings at the moment."

"Tell me about them." It wasn't a request, however gently voiced.

Aldon didn't resist. "Anger, guilt, regret… sympathy. I keep vacillating between fury at Reggie, guilt over how much I've harassed Ian about things the last couple of years, regrets that I did it, regrets that he has to go through this, and then sympathy for both of them, because Ian's lost a best friend. He's hurting and he thinks he's at least partly to blame. And sympathy for Reggie too… because doing something stupid and getting himself killed probably wasn't worth it, no matter how much he hurt."

"You think something was wrong?" Cassie asked, trying not to judge. Her own feelings were no less conflicted on the issue. "He always seemed like such a nice boy."

"Ian seems to think something was wrong," Aldon clarified. "He said a decent amount about it while he was still in the hospital. He hasn't been quite as verbal to me about it since he got off the painkillers they had him on there."

"Did Ian say what?"

"Not a whole lot we didn't already know, at least in passing. Apparently Reggie's mother still holds it over his head that he isn't getting leading rolls by himself. She sees him as playing second-fiddle on Ian's stardom, and that's not good enough."

Cassie felt the urge to throttle someone switching from the dead boy to his living mother, even knowing she must be grieving right now about the loss of her son. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" Aldon asked. "I mean yes, I agree that the boy's talented and his mother saying anything like that's stupid. But this whole business is about perception and popularity as much as it is about talent and hard work. It has its own politics. As hard as Ian works, according to him, Reggie worked harder. He also told me that Reggie's mother was the one who sort of forced him into pursuing acting more seriously, instead of for fun. She was an actress."

"I remember hearing that." Cassie nodded. "In fact, I think I saw one of the movies she was in. She was all right."

"Apparently she wanted to be a star." Aldon sighed, and hugged her closer, his arm tight about her waist. "In any case, Ian seems to think that maybe Reggie's issues with that were deeper than he realized. He says he actually had to leave places a few times to keep from derailing conversations girls were having with Reggie before he showed up."

"Ian did that?" Cassie was honestly surprised. Not at her son's kindness, but at the idea that it was necessary, and he would feel it right to do so.

"He mentioned it."

Which Cassie presumed he took as truth, as did she. Many things her son might be, but a liar had never been one of them. "Does Ian have a girlfriend right now?" It occurred to her that she didn't know. He had stopped talking to them about girls some time ago.

"No one special." Aldon shook his head. "I asked him if there was someone I needed to call and tell he was okay, and other than his Director and Tanner, he said no."

"How did they take this?"

"Actually, they seem to be genuinely upset about the whole situation, and not just because three of their actors are dead or badly injured." Aldon sounded mildly impressed. "When I called Tanner up in Central, he was very forthcoming about how upset everyone is about this, and he made me promise to pass on his assurances that Ian doesn't have to worry about not being able to find work after he heals up. His next film got postponed a few months, so he has time to heal."

Cassie felt a kinder moment towards the man who had first convinced Ian to go to Central for professional work. Ian made good money, but she was well aware that it was not a constant, and not assured. "Did he say it was postponed?"

Aldon shook his head. "Not specifically, but I'd almost bet it's so Ian has time to heal."

* * *

"I see you're finally available," Reichart commented as he stood in the doorway of his little brother's new abode, however temporary it might be.

"You mean Mom's not hovering over me for five minutes?" Ian smiled, though it was weak and tired. The snack plate next to the bed was devoid even of crumbs, the milk glass bone dry.

"Yeah, pretty much. You mind company?" Reichart asked. He didn't want to push himself on his brother. Being worried didn't give him an excuse to be insensitive.

"No, not really." Ian waved him in, though he didn't sit up. "It's better than being alone with my own thoughts."

"I can imagine." Reichart closed the door behind him before sitting down in the chair next to the bed. "If you really want distraction, I'll let Rhiana and Owen bounce around in here and bug you later." His five and three-year-old kids were full of energy. "I suspect Cailean might be a little much." The one-and-a-half year old toddler had plenty of energy too, but lacked the forethought not to jump up and crawl over an injured man.

"Maybe later," Ian chuckled. "But I'd like to see them some more. I'm almost surprised they recognize me."

"They know their uncles," Reichart replied. "Not that they're old enough to watch anything you've done other than a few commercials." His daughter was not old enough for _Amestris High_! "Though they'll talk your ears off if you let them."

"Can they play Go Fish?"

"Of course." Reichart smiled. "If you offer you'll never get them to leave." He was glad Ian was taking an interest in the kids. He wouldn't have ever said his brother wasn't interested in his niece and nephews, but Ian didn't spend much time around kids.

"I bet you'd like that," Ian teased, a bit of his usual self showing briefly through with a knowing look. "Not that we should _let_ you have more private time with Deanna. You'd probably decide to have more kids."

"Probably." Reichart shrugged and didn't argue. No need to tell Ian they would likely have more anyway. Parenthood agreed with them both. "But that doesn't stop me from enjoying the idea of you distracting my kids for a while."

"Speaking of the little darlings, where are they?" Ian asked.

"Outside with Ted and Callie actually." Reichart settled in the chair, getting comfortable. "They're both really careful with them, but they're willing to be bouncy and silly and can keep them out of trouble." Facts he and Deanna greatly appreciated. "Dinner's on. Hope you're hungry. I think Mom's plan to get you back on your feet involves a lot of food."

That got a crack of a smile out of Ian. "I'll probably need it."


	3. Chapter 3

**September 15****th****, 1977**

Time seemed to have lost meaning. Rushing around on sets all day, then it had all come to a screeching, squealing, agonizing halt. Now he was on Resembool time, which meant that the world moved forward and stood still at the same time.

Uncle Ethan left two days after Ian's arrival, assuring him that his healing was going well, and a few weeks of rest and rehabilitation would keep him from having any permanent effects or damage from the accident.

Ian slept a lot over the next few days, though he did make good on his comment to Reichart, and spent a few hours playing cards with his niece and nephew, who seemed delighted he wanted to play. He played less kid-friendly card games with Ted.

It was better than thinking about Reggie.

Nightmares plagued him, and Ian tried not to think about them during the day. He just wished he could find ways to avoid them during sleep. There were drugs that could knock him far enough out at night to keep them away, but he knew his mother wouldn't prescribe them. He wasn't bad off enough physically to need them. Still, half the nights he relived the accident itself, the other half were a confused mix of dreams involving Reggie; old memories mixed with conversations they'd never had. Sometimes they were good ones, but most of the time they weren't; Reggie blaming Ian for half his problems, or crying, or much more openly stoned. Reggie's mother verbally attacking him, blaming him for her son's death, and his problems in his career. And those were the coherent ones.

Naps during the day seemed to avoid the worst of it, and for that Ian was grateful. He could get up and walk around the house with little difficulty, but he still tired quickly and ached after much exertion. The lack of restful sleep didn't help.

Distractions of any form were more than welcome.

Thankfully, five days after his arrival home, Coran and Gale and little Gavin arrived for a short family visit.

Or rather, Coran, Gale, Gavin, and Gale's expectant belly arrived for a visit, Ian couldn't help but think as his oldest brother and sister-in-law entered the house, with Aldon and Ted carrying luggage, and Cassie holding three-year-old Gavin in her arms in a big hug. Grandpa and Grandma were right behind.

Ian refrained from any clever remarks that might get him slapped, but a spark of humor roused itself in him enough that he smiled and bowed gallantly over Gale's hand. "You look ravishing," he grinned and winked.

Coran rolled his eyes, but Gale laughed and shook her head. "Nice to see your shameless flattery hasn't been damaged."

"Shameless?" Ian straightened up for more traditional family hugs of greeting. "I never give a woman a compliment I don't mean; which is why you like it." He didn't let it be a question.

"That's true," Gale admitted. "And it's nice to have a compliment."

"I compliment you!" Coran objected.

"Okay, so a compliment from someone who has no alternative motivation for giving one."

"What alternative motivation could I possibly-" Coran cut off without finishing the statement, realized Gale was teasing him, and shook his head.

His parents were chuckling.

Ian smiled. Now maybe they could have an afternoon of conversation that wasn't centered around his recent disaster. "You walked into that one, Cor."

He was glad his brother smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I did. Now stop hitting on my wife."

"That might be hard," Ian teased. "She's awfully hot."

"And tired," Gale cut them both off, moving over to settle down carefully on the couch. Ian had to admit it was mildly fascinating trying to watch the maneuvering involved. "They really need to make trains more comfortable."

"That's what I keep telling them," Winry smiled sympathetically. "Believe it or not, what we have today is an improvement over fifty years ago."

"Or even twenty," Aldon chimed in.

"Everyone get comfortable," Cassie insisted, handing Gavin over to Winry and moving into the kitchen area. "I made a batch of mint lemonade and one of sweet tea earlier. Is anyone thirsty?"

That announcement was met with a chorus of enthusiastic responses. Ian was grateful for the excuse to sit down. He didn't want to admit he was still having trouble standing for long periods, and his mother refused to let him lift anything heavier than his own dinner plate.

He was also glad everyone wasn't home at the moment. Ted and Callie were at school, and Reichart and Deanna working over at her father's dairy. The kids were with Deanna's mom today, which was not uncommon, though he had found out they split time between there and with Grandma Winry and Grandpa Ed.

"You make the best lemonade," Ed complimented Cassie as he accepted his glass and turned his attention to Gale and Coran. "So, tell us more about this new possible business partnership in Xing?"

"Yes," Winry nodded enthusiastically. "All Elicia could tell me was that Ren said it was a cousin of hers who was interested in expanding the availability of auto-mail for some of his patients."

Well that was interesting, Ian thought. He didn't know a lot about either medicine or auto-mail, but he couldn't imagine that a country full of alkahestrists needed a lot of auto-mail. Though he supposed there were some things that, if they did have to amputate or a limb was gone, they couldn't really replace those with alchemy.

"Right," Coran nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "He's a cousin on the Chan side, and he has a lot of patients who are amputees express an interest in auto-mail instead of the more primitive prosthetics they have for just getting around. It's a good opportunity to break into the Xingese market. While they don't have nearly the number of incidents that end up requiring our kinds of services when you look at population percentages, the raw numbers could, in time, nearly double our market."

"And are you prepared for that eventuality?" Winry asked, grinning as Gavin squirmed on her lap. Ian noticed she settled the boy with practiced ease.

"We're looking at possibly hiring on a couple more engineers," Gale said. "And perhaps bringing in at least one or two of Chan's people to learn and then have them return to Xing as Rockbell Auto-Mail's Far Eastern Division."

"I like the sound of that," Winry chuckled.

Ian settled back in the comfortable chair, quite happy to listen to the auto-mail talk for once. It was nice to just think about something else for a while.

* * *

Ed kept a surreptitious eye on Ian over the course of the day. It had been hard giving him space the past few days. His natural inclination towards knowledge –and worry about family- made him want to be nosy, but that wasn't something that would help Ian. He understood that, so he had been respectful of Cassie's insistence that Ian needed some quiet and not to be over-stimulated.

Even if he had the feeling he might be the right guy for Ian to talk to, eventually. If anyone in the family knew what guilt and self-loathing and trauma felt like, he just might be the expert.

He tried not to consider how that felt like a point of pride to be willing to admit it.

Ian seemed fairly relaxed all afternoon, teasing Coran about Gale, actually asking a couple of interested questions in the auto-mail conversation, and even listening when the topic –inevitably- turned to children. Gale had maybe a month until she was due, and this was their only vacation before that happened.

Ed just wished he was convinced Ian was doing as well as his outward demeanor suggested. Problem was he was sure the kid was acting. Oh, he probably really was interested, but his movements spoke of discomfort he didn't talk about, and his jokes and conversation kept turning anything that even hinted towards getting personal away from Ian and back to a safe topic. He did it really well; Ed was just used to watching for that kind of thing.

Ted and Callie got home from school not too long after; then Deanna, Reichart, and their brood arrived just in time for a big family dinner. It was a good thing the dinner table at the old house was huge, even if it wasn't as big as the extra-long wooden one he and Winry had bought specifically for the purpose of cramming family around it at their place.

Ian unabashedly devoured multiple helpings of everything, including dessert, with an appetite that outmatched even Ted, and reminded Ed of himself at that age. Only Ian was taller than Ed had ever managed to get, and currently regaining a lot of energy lost in healing up, and the alchemical healing he'd received from Ethan.

Ed also caught Ian glancing his way a time or two, when he thought Ed might not be looking. That had him wondering. Of course, it could be nothing, but Ed decided that maybe it had been long enough. Ian might want to talk. He would at least make sure to leave the opening for it.

After dinner Reichart and Deanna took the kids home, and Ted and Callie vanished to get homework done. In Ted's case, that included preparing for a difficult transmutation Ed had set him as a project that he would be attempting tomorrow afternoon.

Winry, Cassie, and Gale adjourned to the front porch. Aldon and Coran vanished into Aldon's back office.

Finding himself momentarily almost alone, Ed decided it was a good time to take a little walk outside, but not far, and strolled out the back door, enjoying the cool evening air, the scent of grass and river, pine and mountain earth. He stopped, standing next to the firewood pile, and enjoyed the colors changing as the sky slowly turned towards dusk.

"Hey, Grandpa."

"Ian." Ed hoped the kid couldn't see his knowing smile. "Nice evening isn't it?"

"Yeah." Ian came forward into view, and did actually take a moment to look out at the world around them. "It's pretty."

"Lots of crickets tonight." Ed stretched his arms over his head, cracked a yawn, and then settled down on a large stump. "Won't be long until it's too cold."

Ian sat down on the next stump over, but Ed didn't say anything else. He could have invited Ian to talk, but he knew that Ian wasn't the kind to need it. When he had decided what he wanted to say, he'd speak. So Ed waited.

"Grandpa, the other day, Uncle Ethan said that he thought you were someone I should talk to about…well about what happened, but about Reggie in particular."

The driver; Ed wondered exactly what Ethan had told Ian. Ian hadn't even been born during what Ed still thought of as his _dark_ period, or perhaps his _stupid frickin' idiot_ period, or afterwards, before he'd gone to Xing and had his heart treated. "What did he say?" he asked neutrally.

Ian shrugged. "I know you've been through a lot. You've been injured, you've been through hell. You've lost people… maybe he just meant that you'd understand. But he said you knew a guy, so maybe you could tell me something about why Reggie was such a fff- such an idiot," he censored himself.

It had been a very long time since Ed talked about that particular mistake. The one he regretted more than just about anything now… even more than the mess that had started it all; trying to bring back his mother. "Well you're right," he began. "I've lost a lot of friends, and family, along the way. I've been stabbed, shot, tortured, had my limbs ripped off more than once –especially if you count these," he tapped his arm with the other fist, making a low metallic sound. "I've killed when I had to, but I never enjoyed it. I almost lost Winry in a car accident. So yeah, you could say I have some experience with what you're probably feeling."

Ian sat quietly listening, and nodding, though his eyes widened slightly at words like _tortured_ and _car accident._ "I didn't know Grandma was in a car accident."

"It was a long time ago." Ed leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. "Before we had Ethan. She got hit by an out of control vehicle. It was terrible. I wanted to throttle the man driving, even though it turned out to be a mechanical problem." Even now, those days were not a pleasant memory. "She almost didn't make it. That was a hard time." Hard enough he'd nearly lost her again less than a year later with the difficulty of birthing Ethan.

Ian's eyes were full of pain, and awe, and maybe a little understanding. "How did you get through it?"

"I had too much to take care of to fall apart," Ed told him simply. "Sara and Aldon were just kids. And Al was always there to support me, or talk some sense into me." That evoked a small smile, even now.

Even Ian smiled. "Brothers are good for that."

"Yeah they are."

"So… what about this guy you knew?"

Time to man up. Ed let out a long sigh, and looked Ian straight in the eyes. "Ethan's talking about me, Ian."

Confusion, shock, and then a brief flash of horrified disbelief flitted across Ian's features. "_You?" _Several seconds of open mouthed silence followed, though Ed could read the questions in Ian's eyes.

Finally he saved Ian the trouble of figuring out how to word everything going on in his head. "I was completely out of my mind, but at the time it seemed perfectly logical," he explained without looking away. "It was after the Aerugo War. We all went through a lot in that war. I wasn't handling it well. On top of that, and because of it in some ways, Winry and I weren't doing well. We were fighting. It got bad. She came out here for a while. It… it looked like we might be done."

That elicited a small gasp, and Ed wondered how much of Ian's perception of his grandparents had just been blown.

"Remember the out of my mind part," he reiterated. "I was a mess. Ethan would know. He had to take the brunt of it. I drank a lot. It didn't help. I felt like I was losing control of everything that mattered… losing everything that mattered. I couldn't sleep without nightmares when I slept at all. So I decided to try mixing up something Mei had told me they used in Xing to help patients sleep, that suppressed dreams."

Ian fell off the stump. "What the _hell_ were you thinking?" he exclaimed, scrambling to get back up, but he winced.

Ed stood and offered Ian a hand. "Easy there. Don't hurt yourself." He helped Ian to his feet. "You want to know what I was thinking? I was thinking that if I could just get rid of the nightmares I might be able to get some perspective on the situation and make it through another day."

Ian looked away first. "That's mental."

"Yeah. It was." Ed let go and gave Ian a little more space, though he didn't sit back down. "That's how stupid I was, because I couldn't think clearly."

He had never seen Ian look so uncomfortable. His grandson didn't move for over a minute. He finally looked Ed in the eyes again. "How long did you take it?"

"Just once."

It was not the answer Ian had been expecting, clearly, because he was openly confused. "That's it?"

"It was enough." Ed didn't think Ian needed much more in the way of details. He'd made his point. "I misread the instructions, overdosed, and nearly killed myself. It was a couple of days before I realized I'd done real damage to myself, though when I came to I realized I was being an idiot. I started to pull myself back together, but the damage was done."

"But you're fine now."

"Thanks to some amazing alchemical doctors in Xing." Ed reached up and placed a hand on Ian's shoulder. "The point, Ian, is that if your friend was hurting, and he was hiding it, he probably wasn't thinking things through logically the way you or I would normally. We all have problems. We don't always do the right thing. But I'll tell you this. What I did was my mistake. It wasn't Winry's fault, even though we were going through a rough patch. It wasn't Ethan's fault. There wasn't anything he could do and nothing he did wrong. The mess was in my head, and my mistakes are mine. I think that's what Ethan probably wanted me to tell you. From what you've told me, and what I've seen of your friend, he was probably failing to cope with his problems and looking for an escape. For all you know, this could have been the first time. But don't blame yourself for what happened to him. Learn from your own mistakes, and move on. And don't let this ruin your opinion of the guy you were friends with. He was a talented, good hearted man. If nothing else, find out more before you make a judgment call. That's what you owe him."

It had been a long time since Ed had given a lecture that long, and he'd never given one that detailed, or personal, to Ian before. He had rarely needed this kind of guidance. Usually his childhood issues had been things Aldon could handle with ease. He watched Ian's expressive face, waiting.

"Yeah… that's probably it," Ian agreed after a minute, his expression suddenly giving away almost nothing.

"Not what you wanted to hear?" He wasn't going to let Ian just shut down on him.

"Not what I expected," Ian clarified with a shrug. "I'd never heard any of that before. It's just a lot to take in."

He couldn't blame Ian for that reaction. "It was a lot to live through," Ed quipped. "We all make mistakes, and we have to live with them if we live through them. I'm really sorry about your friend, Ian, and that you have to deal with this." He put his hand down. "Well, anything else you want to ask me?"

"No. Thanks, Grandpa." Ian turned back towards the house. "It was something I needed to hear."

Ed watched him go. _Good. Now take it, learn from it, and move on. You've got too much life left ahead of you to waste it. _

**September 18****th****, 1977**

Ian had never really felt left-out in his family before. They certainly weren't trying to make him feel left out now. In fact, they made sure he had plenty to do and was never bored, but it was impossible for Ian not to notice more distinctly than he had really paid attention to before at how different his life was from everyone else's.

Reichart and Deanna were as sickeningly cute together as they had been in school; affectionate, cuddly, sweet, considerate…. And so happy with their little brood it wouldn't have surprised Ian if they announced they were having another. Busy and happy, they were completely wrapped up in family, and the family businesses. Reichart spent almost as much time helping Deanna's family at the dairy farm as he did on his shifts at the hospital, and he still had a little art studio in their house for when he was feeling creative.

Coran and Gale, whom he had always considered slightly edgy and cool when he was younger, were surprisingly not that different. They weren't as lovey-dovey in public, and the banter had a different tone to it, but they were happy together, and passionate, and quite happy to be having a second child, though they made it quite clear that two was a good number! Gale's natural independence was not nearly so defensive when it was Coran who helped when her pregnancy made something inconvenient.

And Ian definitely didn't envy them the kids. The idea of any of his past girlfriends showing up and telling him they were pregnant –or almost worse, presenting him with an already existing child of any age- made him shudder deep down. The idea of any of them swollen with child gave him a mild feeling of panic even just considering the possibility. No, he definitely wasn't ready to settle down. But his brothers, his parents, his grandparents… he was the only adult in the family in Resembool who didn't have that kind of relationship, and he never really had. Sure, Urey was only dating, and Ted didn't have a girlfriend, but Ted was fifteen, and Urey was clearly infatuated with Cayla.

Ian couldn't say he'd ever had that, with any girl. He'd liked them all well enough, he'd certainly been physically attracted to all of them, but he liked dating for fun, for the enjoyment of a good evening's conversation, and sometimes a little something afterwards. He respected them all, and he'd never tried to force any girl –he had the opposite problem usually- but none of those connections had turned into anything he found himself dubbing "real." At least, nothing that had lasted. And he hadn't asked them to. His schedule was crazy. His life kept him hopping all over when he wasn't working strictly in Central. And he was still building his career, and that took a lot of his time and effort. He didn't have time for a steady girlfriend, or a long-term relationship. It wouldn't be fair to ask that of any woman.

So it irritated him to find himself suddenly feeling left out. Even knowing that no relationship was perfect (and with the new knowledge that his grandparents –his happily married for over fifty-years grandparents- had almost divorced at one point) Ian wished he had someone he felt that emotionally close to. Someone who would have rushed to his side at the hospital, and been worried about him, and probably scolded him for being drunk, and then kissed him and told him she was glad he was okay. Someone –who wasn't his Mom or little sister or an in-law- who wanted to help him around, who would talk to him about things, someone to snuggle next to at night…

The only girl who had called to check on him since his arrival was Aunt Sara. To be fair, Ian thought, none of his female friends had his parents' phone number, but they could have asked Bartholomew Tanner for it.

No one from the studio had called either, which didn't help his mood. While his father had told him about his conversation with Tanner, and the reassurances that his next role was safe and they had put off shooting until he was capable, he still felt odd about it. The idea of picking up and getting back to work seemed estranged from life. It had all happened so fast. Going back, knowing he would never see Reggie again, never work with him again, made thoughts of Central and the studio painful. So he tried not to think about work.

Not thinking about girls, or acting, or the accident didn't leave him with much to think about.

"Want to play poker?" he asked Ted on Thursday afternoon when most of the family had gone into town for a little shopping –mostly for the coming baby. Ian had declined to go.

"Sorry," Ted shrugged apologetically even as he grinned on his way to the door. "I've got a date."

"A date? I thought you were still into Krista," Ian commented. He knew the girl had turned both Ted and James down last year, but that hadn't seemed to have deterred either boy from trying to keep on good terms.

"Yeah." Ted's ears and cheeks turned slightly pink. "But that doesn't mean I can't date someone else does it?" His tone was almost challenging.

Ian stifled a laugh. "No, of course it doesn't. Have fun." He waved him off. There was no way he, of all people, could tell Ted he couldn't date a girl because another one he liked was unavailable.

Callie wasn't home either. She had been in and out after school only long enough to drop her things and head to a friend's house.

That left him alone. Ian didn't want to turn on the television really, but he decided it was his best option.

His stomach growled. Well, nothing like a snack and something to watch. He went into the kitchen and made a small stack of ham sandwiches, poured a glass of milk, and settled back in an overstuffed chair to eat and find distraction.

News. Nope. Sports. No. _Amestris High_ reruns… he changed channels so fast off that one the remote control his grandmother had rigged up blinked at him and it accidentally clicked twice, bringing the episode back up.

The scene was familiar. It was one of Dennis and Logan's big fight scenes from the first season. They had gotten into a fist-fight in the locker room after their rivalry had caused them to lose an important game.

It had been a great scene to film and a hit with the fans; their first big shirtless locker room scene and a major moment in character development. They'd had to bring in a wrestling coach to teach both him and Reggie how to do the kind of grappling fight they were going to be filming. There had been a lot of embarrassed laughter at how awkward some of those poses were in slow motion, and cat calls from the girls. They were all still newly friends at that point, but it had been a good time.

Ian rubbed his eyes, and realized his face was hot with tears.

_Ring Ring._

Grateful for the interruption, Ian turned off the television and went to the phone. "Good afternoon, Elric residence."

"Ian?" Urey's voice was immediately recognizable over the phone. "Hey! How are you?"

"Doing all right," Ian replied. "Getting a lot of sleep. Eating till I can't move. The usual invalid stuff."

Urey snorted. "And I bet you're still scrawny as a fence post. Is Mom or Dad there?"

"They're out shopping with everyone else," Ian told him. "What's up?"

"I wanted to ask them if they'd mind if I brought a guest home over the fall break," Urey admitted, though he sounded a little anxious.

Ian thought he knew why, and couldn't help grinning. "Let me guess. You want to bring Cayla with you?"

"Yeah. I thought she'd have fun, and I'd like her to meet everyone."

Damn that sounded serious. "As long as you didn't run off and elope, I'm sure Mom and Dad will like her," he teased.

"Ha, funny," Urey chuckled, though it sounded slightly hollow. "No, we haven't done anything like that."

"Good." For a moment, Ian had wondered if maybe he had inadvertently stumbled on something. Of course, he didn't think Urey would be that impulsive. "Well do you want me to pass your question on to Mom, or do you want to call back later? They'll be back in an hour or two."

"I'll call back tonight," Urey replied. "I'd really like to ask them myself."

Definitely serious. "Sure. I'll keep my mouth shut then," Ian assured him. "Talk to you later."

"Later."

Ian hung up the phone, and that unpleasant feeling of being left out of something slunk back in. Urey was bringing his girlfriend home for the holidays. He'd dated a bit in college, but he'd never wanted to bring a girl home to meet Mom before now. If Urey ran true to family form, that probably meant another wedding in a couple of years. Urey was much more the settle down type, and if he'd met her in one of his Botany classes -something he needed for his degree- then they'd probably have no trouble working in the same area. Ian knew Urey wanted to move to Central and work in one of the government funded alchemical laboratories that were currently switching over entirely to helping engineer pharmaceuticals like the ones Uncle Ethan had helped develop.

While Ian stood in his parents living room, alone, wasting time while his body healed up slower than he wanted, however quickly he was told he was mending. And there was nothing in the house to drink stronger than a soda.

_Welcome to the glamorous life of Ian Elric. Wouldn't all my screaming fan girls love to see this?_


	4. Chapter 4

**September 22****nd****, 1977**

Coran and Gale only stayed about a week. There was too much to be done in Central, and while certainly they would have been in the best of hands if the baby came in Resembool, they wanted to be home. Ian supposed there was nothing wrong with that. Certainly his mom and Grandma Winry seemed to understand completely, though there were talks of visits to Central when the happy event happened. No one seemed to want to say whether they thought the baby would be a boy or girl. If Elric blood ran true, the chances of a girl were small, but always a possibility. No one wanted to jinx it by trying to guess though.

The night before they left, Ian found himself sitting on the front porch, staring up at the stars, enjoying a moment's quiet as everyone else was getting ready for bed or going through their evening routine. Being a week night, no one was staying up late. Ted and Callie had school in the morning, and his father had already retreated into the little office in his house and would probably still be working for hours yet, if not on work related to his office as Mayor, on one of his many personal engineering projects he only got to work on when everything else was done these days.

His mother was helping Gale get Gavin to sleep, and he had no idea where Coran had vanished too.

"Never figured you for a stargazer."

Well that answered that question. Ian looked over the edge of the porch and saw Coran looking up at him from below. "Yeah I know," he quipped. "I see them all the time at work. What's that?" he asked, squinting at something in Coran's hand.

Coran came around and up the stairs, taking the other chair opposite him at the little outdoor table. He slid a bottle across the table, and Ian realized he had two of them. "Dad keeps the beers out in his workshop now," he commented.

Ian blinked. He hadn't mentioned that. "Oh. No one told me." There was an unintentional bitter note in his voice, but he opened the bottle all the same. "Thanks." He couldn't help giving Coran a wondering look. Given everything that had happened, he couldn't help but wonder what was on his older brother's mind. "Any particular occasion?"

"I've been doing a little digging," Coran admitted, and he pulled something out of his pocket that turned out to be a series of newspaper clippings. "I wasn't sure if you'd want to see these or not, but they're the articles covering the accident, and your friend's death and funeral. I don't think there's anything in the first you didn't know, but the second is pretty interesting."

"Interesting?" Ian wasn't sure he wanted to read it, though he knew he would anyway. "In what way?"

"They talked to his mother, and a few other people he knew, and I suspect you know most of them." In the dynamic light from the window that fell across his face in stark relief with the blue evening, it was difficult to read Coran's expression.

Ian picked up the accident report first. He suspected by the time he finished reading both, he was really going to want that beer.

The article out of the East City Gazette was relatively straight-forward and, thankfully, non-incriminating, at least for him and Gary. Apparently Gary had reported the story of something running out into the street as well, and while Reggie's state was mentioned, the accident itself had been ruled an accidental manslaughter and there were no repercussions or charges to be dealt with, or reparations to be paid on the part of Reggie's family, nothing like that. Ian wondered if he should feel glad about that or not, given the stories Reggie had told him of the way his mother behaved. Ian had seen it first-hand a few times.

The longer article, straight out of the Central Times, made his face go red.

_Retired actress Ginna Douglas mourned today at the funeral of her only son, actor Reggie Douglas, age 20, who died earlier this week in a fatal car accident that killed him, the other driver, and injured actors Ian Elric and Gary Fines. The three actors were reported to be driving back to their hotel from a cast party, when in order to avoid running into an animal, Reggie swerved to avoid it and slammed into an oncoming vehicle in the opposite lane. It was later reported that at time of death there were drugs in his system. _

_ Ms. Douglas had little to say on the subject of her son's physical state at the time of the incident. "A mother can only do so much," she told our reporter, dabbing her cheeks with a silk handkerchief. "I tried to be a guide and example, but once they're grown, there's not much a mother can do if her son falls in with the wrong crowd." _

Ian almost ripped the page apart right there. "_Wrong crowd_?" he stared at the offending words in black newsprint. "She means us!"

"Shhh." Coran shook his head and nodded towards the house. Apparently this was not something he was supposed to be showing him. Did other members of the family know? Of course they probably did; it would have been on the news, it was in the papers. He checked the date, the article was a few days old.

Fuming, Ian quieted down and continued.

_Ms. Douglas did not try to deny her son's apparent drug problem, though she went on at some length regarding her sorrow at this turn of events, losing her only son, who had, according to her, seen a psychologist for several years since his father's death. "It wasn't easy for us you know," she regaled us; "Reggie wanted to do his best for his father and I. After Jerry died, things were difficult. When Reggie started acting, I was relieved. He found something he loved and excelled at. I think that, if circumstances had been different, he would have had the opportunity for many lead roles." _

Ian had to un-crumple the sheet before he tore it this time. Different circumstances? Well sure, Reggie would have gotten some sure leads on his own. That wasn't the question, it was the tone, and clearly the writer of the article hadn't been impressed with her much either. He skimmed the next little bit, which made several more remarks that heavily implied that Reggie and Ian had been in fierce and unfriendly competition for years.

_While his mother tells a story of a son who is cast heavily in the role of a man whose casting directors did not appreciate his true talents, his friends tell a different story. They were shocked to hear that he had been involved with drugs at all. Cast and crewmates alike expressed sorrow and told us of a very likeable young man; a serious hard worker with star potential and solid talent, and one with several friendships among his cast members, including long-time co-star Ian Elric. While there are unsubstantiated rumors that Reggie's friendship with Elric might have been more than platonic…_

This time beer splattered halfway across the table. Ian set the bottle down and reread the last line. "What in bloody hell? Where did this come from? How have I never heard this rumor?" _Are they really insinuating we were _involved? The very idea made his stomach churn. Not that he didn't know a few guys like that… not in the acting business. And frankly, he hadn't ever really given it much thought. But _Reggie?_ _There's no way he was interested in me. He was always griping about how I kept stealing the girls. He hit on girls all the time. I… it's just not possible._

But what if it was? A little voice stole into his ear. What if half of Reggie's problem wasn't Ian stealing the girls, but the girls stealing Ian?

He drained the rest of the beer in one long swallow. When he put the bottle down, Coran was just watching him, unsurprised at his reactions. "I take it you're as surprised by that one as I was."

Coran had met Reggie, Ian had to remind himself. They all lived in Central, and Ian had introduced Reggie to all his local family more than once. He had with all his friends who were cast members. "I really never thought of him like that," Ian replied firmly. "And it never occurred to me. Why would they put that in there?"

"Because someone suggested it." Coran shrugged. "They do say it's unsubstantiated rumor. But it sells papers, and it's publicity. If you want to find out who said it, you'll have to do some more investigating on your own when you get home."

Ian nodded, and wondered if he dared to read any more of the article. "Does it get worse than that?"

"No, not really."

Ian picked up where he'd left off.

_While there are unsubstantiated rumors that Reggie's friendship with Elric might have been more than platonic, most of their cast mates from _Amestris High _and their more recent film laughed off the idea, given Elric's unapologetic and undisputed reputation as a ladies man, and assurances that Douglas' line of girlfriends doesn't run much shorter. _

Ian wondered who they had been talking to, cause that was, unfortunately, quite an exaggeration. He knew that because it was something Reggie had complained about regularly, especially more often recently. Ian had rather hoped this new role would help Reggie out in that department, but the movie wasn't out yet, and it was too late now. It was probably the girls, trying to be nice.

_In any case, this is a sad day in the entertainment industry. A rising star's light has gone out, and the future remains uncertain for his fellow actors. Gary Fines confided that he may not go back to acting after this. His extensive injuries include a broken nose and a –thankfully successfully repaired- punctured lung. Ian Elric, whose injuries were reportedly quite severe, was unavailable for comment._

"Did they call the house?" Ian looked up at Coran. Somehow, he figured Coran would know.

His oldest brother shook his head. "Dad told me they called the hospital, and he refused to tell them anything, including when you'd be getting out, or where you were going afterwards. If they've called here, he hasn't told me anything."

Ian looked down at the clippings, then folded them up and shoved them back across the table. "Thanks." _I think._ "At least someone's been honest with me. I had no idea about half of this. The rumors…augh! Sometimes I hate the press." Even if it was all just part of being in the business. "Now I'm going to spend half my life wondering if my best buddy was somehow secretly in love with me, and no way to ask him."

"Maybe I should have left that one out of this," Coran said.

Ian shook his head. "No. I'd have heard about it eventually either way. It's ludicrous…but then, a few weeks ago I'd have told you Reggie was the most straight-laced guy in the world and the last guy who would do something stupid that might get his friends, or himself, killed." He didn't believe it, not really, but it was just one more thing that had crawled onto the list of worries and unknowns, and Ian knew it would drive him crazy if he thought about it too much.

Still, he'd have to ask the girls when he got back, if either of them were behind the comments about Reggie having a long list of girlfriends.

"Are there any more of these in Dad's workshop?" he held up the beer bottle hopefully.

Coran shook his head. "Sorry, last two."

He seemed to be telling the truth, but Ian suspected he'd have gotten that answer even if his Dad inexplicably, had started storing kegs in the basement. Given that unlikelihood, he chose to trust his brother, who had gone through the trouble of keeping him informed on the outside world. "What do you think I should do?" he asked suddenly.

Coran blinked. "About the news or in general?"

"Well, since I can't punch Reggie's Mom in the face, let's go with in general."

"I think you need to stay here, with Mom and Dad, until you're healed up, then go back to work," Coran said seriously. "Dad's been doing his best to keep anyone from bothering you, as well as damage control. The press tried to make a spectacle of this when it first happened, and Dad wouldn't tell them anything except that you were badly hurt, you'd be fine later, and that you were just a passenger. I think he actually managed to make the reporter who tried to talk to him feel guilty for trying to bother you."

"Wow." Why hadn't his father told him this? Or even his mother. "I hate being left out of things that directly involve me," he grumbled. "This was my mess. Frankly I'm not sure the press shouldn't be reporting the whole thing. I'd even take this villain's role Reggie's mom has assigned me to if it would give his memory a little more dignity."

"No one wanted to upset you," Coran explained.

"Except you?" Ian asked.

"I just thought you deserved to know, even if they didn't think you were well enough yet. You look pretty all right to me." Coran stood up, and took both bottles. "At least physically. If you do decide to talk to the press. I'm sure it'll happen eventually; then it's best you know what's been said."

Ian nodded. That much was true. "Thanks, Cor. I think… I'm going to go to bed." He had a lot to think about, but if he was lucky, his dreams would be less complicated than life seemed to want to be. He stood up slowly, though after sitting a while he didn't feel any real pain besides a dull ache in his lower back. "Hey, Cor?" he asked before he reached the door.

"What?" his brother asked.

"Do you think I should find something else to do with my life?"

"You mean other than acting? No, I don't," Coran replied seriously. "You love what you do, and you're good at it. If you quit I think you'd regret it. Why, are you thinking about it?"

"No, I'm not," Ian replied. "Not really. Just seeing Gary's thinking about it made me wonder I guess."

"You sure it has nothing to do with the press?"

Ian snorted. "I've never cared what the press had to say, and I'm not about to start caring now as long as they keep hiring me." He'd just put Reggie's mothers words out of his head, and everyone else's, he decided firmly. Their opinions, their rumors, none of it mattered.

And he was going to keep telling himself that until he believed it again.

**October 12****th****, 1977**

Ian wasn't entirely sure why Urey had asked Grandpa to meet him and Cayla at the train station –maybe his brother's girlfriend had brought too much luggage- but he stopped wondering as the car pulled up outside the house, and Urey bounded out and around and pulled a folding wheelchair out of the back seat and set it up. His brother hadn't said anything about his girlfriend being in a wheelchair!

From the way Urey calmly opened the door and helped Cayla into it, Ian got the feeling this was not some recent injury. For one thing, she looked perfectly healthy otherwise, and she was smiling. While Urey was extremely focused and attentive, neither looked worried.

He saw his parents exchange a brief look of concern, but it was gone behind smiles a moment later, as they hurried down the stairs.

"Urey!" Cassie hugged her son tightly first. "You look wonderful."

"Thanks, Mom." Urey chuckled as he bent over a little to hug her. Ian couldn't disagree with his mother's assessment. His brother was dressed surprisingly fashionably, for Urey anyway, and he was probably the fittest Ian had ever seen him. "Trust me, it's all Cayla's doing," he added, his grin as wide as it could be. "Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Cayla. Cayla, these are my folks, and my brother Ian."

She must have known he was going to be here, because Cayla gave him a curious look but focused on his parents, smiling as she shook hands with them both. "It's such a pleasure to meet you," she said with a soft, slightly wispy, though pleasant voice. "Urey talks about home all the time."

"Well I'm glad to hear it," Cassie replied, giving Cayla's hand a squeeze. "We've been hearing quite a lot about you lately as well."

"Good things, promise," Urey assured Cayla, one hand resting protectively on her shoulder.

Ian watched his father greet Cayla, and noticed something he didn't think his parents had… that she had rings on both hands, and the one on the left was most definitely on the ring finger. "You didn't tell me you were engaged!" The words came out of his mouth before he was even conscious he was speaking, and the moment they were Ian knew it was too late to take them back. Urey had _proposed_ already, without telling anyone?

Everyone froze for a moment, even Grandpa Ed, who was looking between Urey and Cayla with clear surprise on his face. So, everyone else had missed it.

Urey shot Ian a slightly dirty look before he smiled, abashedly, and nodded. "Yeah, well I was about to get to that part of the good news."

It was too late to take it back now. Ian put a smile on his face. "And it is good news! Congratulations."

His parents stunned expressions returned to smiles, though Ian had a feeling they were thinking the same thing he was. Urey and Cayla hadn't been going out all that long, relatively speaking, just a few months officially. Had Urey known her before this semester? Ian hadn't thought so. It just felt very rushed.

And Ian felt mildly guilty for just blurting it out like that instead of keeping his mouth shut. Usually he had better control than that.

"Yes, wonderful. Why don't we go inside and get comfortable and you can tell us all about it," Cassie suggested, leading the way as they headed in. A temporary wheelchair ramp had, thankfully, been installed during Ian's first few days there, so they didn't have to try and manhandle Cayla's up. "What would you like to drink?" Ian's mother offered as friendly as she could manage as everyone settled in the living room. Ian knew his Grandmother would be down later, though he almost wished Winry were already there. She always handled this kind of thing well. "We have tea, coffee, juice, milk, soda…"

"Water will be fine," Cayla replied softly, and almost apologetically.

"For me too, please," Urey replied.

As his father and grandfather both asked for sodas, Ian heard Cayla whispering, "You don't have to."

"I want to," Urey replied, and kissed her hand. "Don't worry."

"Ian?"

"Oh, a cola please." Ian replied to his mother, watching Urey and Cayla. Reading people was something he had always been good at, now it was part of his job, and he found his brother and his girlfriend – well fiancée – fascinating, and slightly perplexing.

"Here you are," Cassie brought the drinks around a minute later. "You're sure?"

"Yes, it's perfect. Thank you, Mrs. Elric," Cayla assured her with a gentle smile as she took the glass. "Please don't trouble yourself. I have some… dietary restrictions. I usually just drink water."

"I see." Cassie handed Urey his water and sat down.

Dietary restrictions; well that explained why she was so delicate looking. She didn't look like she ate much. And if Urey was trying not to make her feel bad about it, Ian suspected that was why his brother was in such great shape. "What kind of restrictions?" he asked, keeping his tone as conversational, and slightly sympathetic, as he could manage.

Urey scowled at him again, but Cayla didn't seem to mind. "I was sick when I was a child, and there are just a few things that I don't digest properly or have sensitivities to. I can't have seafood or poultry, anything that grows in the nightshade family, wheat, cow milk, acidic fruits or juices, carbonated beverages, alcohol, or caffeine. I also avoid heavy spices."

That was a long list given the number of foods and drinks that nixed from any list of options. "Wow."

"It's not so bad," she assured them, still smiling. "Fortunately, I like vegetables."

"That's good," Ed cut in with a grin. "So why don't you tell us how Urey proposed? He hasn't told us that story, obviously."

Urey had the good grace to look abashed, but Cayla came to his defense.

"Oh it was the sweetest thing ever," she almost cooed, squeezing Urey's hand. "And he wouldn't have had the chance, since it happened just before we left. It was just a few nights ago, after midterms. I was walking to dinner and-"

"Walking?" Shit… he'd done it again. He was really off still, Ian thought.

Again, Urey looked annoyed, but Cayla didn't seem to be offended. "I don't always need the chair," she explained patiently. "I still have weak spells sometimes, and when I do they affect my legs, but they usually only last a few days at a time."

"Okay. I'll try not to interrupt anymore," Ian promised.

The story was a very sweet one, and rather mushy, Ian had to admit, watching Cayla and Urey make eyes at each other even as they traded off the telling. Walking to dinner, being waylaid with a picnic, and walking down to the river gardens, sitting underneath the changing fall colors and surrounded by a garden of bright fall chrysanthemums. "And then," she paused, and giggled, her cheeks turning a pale rose. It was a pretty blush, Ian admitted to himself. He couldn't fault his brother's taste. "He wrote me a poem."

Poetry, out of Urey? Ian gave his brother a wide-eyed look. "Well now, full of hidden talents aren't you?"

Urey shrugged. "I can do a lot of things."

"I'm sure it was lovely," Cassie cut in. "Please, go on."

"Well, when he finished, Urey got up on both knees, and he kissed me… and then he told me I completed him, and asked if I would do so for the rest of our lives." She touched the ring, her face still rose on pale cream. Then she looked up at Urey, and for a moment Ian got the feeling both of them had left the room.

"How very romantic."

Ian turned around, surprised that Grandma Winry had slipped in unannounced. She was smiling warmly as she joined them. "I'm sorry I'm late. I had to finish an order. It's lovely to meet you at last, Cayla. You clearly bring out the best in our Urey."

She sounded completely sincere, and Ian felt a knot of tension in his back ease.

Urey beamed, and Cayla accepted Winry's welcoming hug graciously. "Thank you, ma'am," Cayla replied.

"Please, just call me Winry," his grandmother insisted. "Around here the number of Mrs. Elrics confuses things otherwise," she chuckled.

Cayla chuckled, and even that sound was soft and musical. "I can see why it would."

* * *

Dinner was an interesting affair. Since Cassie hadn't known about Cayla's dietary restrictions ahead of time, dinner had a very quick revision that, thankfully, wasn't too difficult for her and Winry to manage. There was already a large salad, mashed potatoes, and a relatively mild meatloaf; beef the girl could have in small amounts. They put on rice instead of pasta, and kept most of the herbs in bottles for adding as desired instead of pre-seasoning.

Just having Winry there, Ed noticed, made the entire situation suddenly less awkward. Of course, his wife could handle just about anything with ease. After as long as they had lived, and as much as they had seen, both he and his wife were much better at rolling with whatever life through at them. Not that he blamed Cassie and Aldon for a being caught off guard. He hadn't expected Cayla and Urey to have already gotten engaged, or for her to be as delicate as she was. Clearly, these were things Urey hadn't wanted to tell them over the phone, probably because he knew they would elicit concern.

Ed's concerns were not about Cayla's health, or even her devotion to Urey. There was no missing the mutual infatuation that seemed to spark so much it was almost visible. All through the meal he watched Urey be the most considerate, caring, over-attentive man it was possible to be without driving someone crazy. Cayla clearly found it endearing. If anyone had treated him like that, it would have driven Ed nuts. But then, Cayla seemed to be very accepting of the limits she had clearly been living with most of her life. For that, he found he admired her.

Urey struck him as more than a little protective, even with Ted and Callie, who were very curious about their new sister-in-law to be.

After dinner, Urey took Cayla out on the front porch for a little private time and, ostensibly, to watch the stars. Edward helped clear the table while Aldon did the dishes. Ian swept. It was only fair since the girls had managed dinner.

"So what do you think?" Aldon asked Ed quietly as they dried and put the dishes away.

Ed didn't bother to ask about what. "I think they're completely taken with each other."

"This doesn't bother you?"

Ed set down a cup and looked at his son. "Do you think saying anything is going to do you any good other than make Urey upset?" he asked. "He's got as much sense about her as you did at that age. If, for some reason, I had objected to Cassie, do you think you would have listened to me?"

"No." Aldon shrugged. "It just seems so fast, even to me. They've known each other for what, three months?"

"What's wrong?" Ed asked with a dry smile. "You don't believe in love at first sight anymore?"

Aldon set down a plate with a frustrated thump. "I'm just afraid they're rushing things. Comparing him to me doesn't make me feel any better. I can tell they have a great deal of affection, but is it love, or just infatuation? How do they know it will last?"

"No one does," Winry joined them, speaking softly. "But love is a funny thing sometimes. The only ones who can judge are the two people in it. They're in love, and they seem like a very even match in a lot of ways."

"So you approve." Cassie joined them all by the sink.

"I think that Urey cares very much that we approve, and is terrified we won't, because they did move so fast," Winry said. "But he doesn't care so much that he'll change his mind. He's half expecting a fight, so he's protective. I think the best thing we can do is accept it and let life run its course. If they want to be together, then we should give them every chance to succeed, not make things more difficult."

"Neither one of you has answered our questions," Aldon pointed out.

Ed chuckled. "You noticed did you? What your mother means is that it doesn't matter if it bothers us, or if we approve. You didn't base your relationship on what we thought. Neither did Sara and Franz, or Ethan and Lia. I wouldn't have expected you to. So even if sometimes you drove us nuts, we didn't try and sabotage anything, did we?"

"No," Aldon agreed. "And I wouldn't do that to any of my sons."

"Not even if you thought it was a bad match?" Winry asked.

Cassie sighed. "I don't think this is a bad match," she said softly. "I just think it will be a difficult one. Urey wants to move to Central and work for the state in pharmaceutical alchemy. He's got ambitions and plans. Cayla clearly needs a lot of care, and while he's willing to give her that, taking care of someone long term can be difficult, even if you want to do it when you start. That, and he's changed a lot, in a very short time, just for her."

"Which Cayla doesn't seem to expect or require," Winry commented, which matched what Ed had been thinking.

"He'll relax a little, give it time," Ed suggested. "And let's not make all our judgments on one evening's conversation."

"Thank you," Winry smiled. "That's a very reasonable suggestion."

Ed grinned. "I do have those from time to time."


	5. Chapter 5

**October 15****th****, 1977 **

The first day of the Harvest Festival dawned bright and sunny, with air as crisp as a fresh apple. The colors of fall were everywhere, and the sky above was a bright blue. The breeze was chilly enough that a light jacket was comfortable. Even from two hills away, it was possible to hear and smell the festival, hidden over the rise.

Ian was quite happy to make the walk down to the festival grounds with the family, just grateful that he could actually walk the distance. He had brought a walking stick in case he needed it, but was hoping he wouldn't really. At least it looked less pathetic than a cane.

Three days with Urey and Cayla in the house, and Ian thought he might just die of sugar poisoning. It was unreal how adorable they were, almost like watching a really mushy romantic movie. Now he watched as Urey insisted on pushing Cayla all the way there. She had insisted she could walk the distance, but had agreed that she would save her strength for a dance or two later. She seemed to take Urey's slightly obsessive protectiveness as something that should be appreciated, and patiently accepted.

Reichart and Deanna certainly didn't seem to see anything wrong with it. Deanna and Cayla spent a lot of time chatting pleasantly as they walked down the road. Cayla even let the three little kids take turns riding on her lap instead of following along the whole way or being carried in their parents' arms. They loved it.

Ted and Callie had gone on ahead earlier in the morning to help set up. Ted had volunteered to help run some of the kids' games, and Callie was helping her friend Genevra with her show pigs.

Ian was grateful he wasn't the latest riser in the group, or the slowest. He hadn't slept well, but his dreams weren't quite as potent as they had been right after the accident. Sometimes he had normal dreams again now. Last night had just been one of the bad ones. Fortunately getting Cayla ready to go had given him time to drink a couple of cups of coffee and yawn himself awake.

"Yes, we thought a wedding in May would be lovely."

Ian turned his attention to the conversation the girls were having, hoping they wouldn't notice him listening in.

"It's a nice time of year," Deanna agreed. "You're both graduating this year, right?"

"That's right," Cayla replied. "So our studies will be done, and we still have seven months to plan."

And seven more months to get to know each other better, Ian couldn't help thinking before he felt bad for thinking it. He was hardly one to talk about relationships. His longest ones had only lasted a few weeks, and he'd never really been in love with any of them.

That depressing thought followed him right down into the fairgrounds, where the family scattered for their favorite corners of the festival. He knew Grandpa would be judging every food entry at the fair. He always did. His Dad would join them, but only for the final round of judging, when there were only a few things to taste.

Food sounded good. His stomach still spent half its time growling, and Ian was beginning to wonder if he would ever not be hungry again. So he picked up a fried corn cob from one stand and a thick slab of pie and sat down to do something he actually enjoyed; people watching.

People in Resembool never seemed to change. The faces aged, and new ones came in, and old ones left, but overall the actions and the moods and the way of doing things didn't vary much. Though Ian could tell that, with his mother and Deanna and others involved, things had stepped up a notch over the past few years. Signs were freshly painted, and the designs were a little more with the times. The music wasn't a century old, at least not most of the time. Sometimes there were even new recipes or contests.

He lost track of time, watching families, couples of all ages, and might-be couples wandering the festival, having fun and enjoying being together.

"If you were that hungry, you could have joined us," Grandpa Ed grinned as he dropped down across the table from Ian, a mug of cider in hand.

Ian looked down at the table, and realized he had cleaned off his plate, the corn, and a large sandwich he had half-forgotten he had wandered over to buy.

"Then we wouldn't have had to try it all," Aldon agreed with a groan as he settled in beside Ed with a mug of his own.

"But isn't that half the fun?" Reichart teased as he joined them. "Here, this one's for you," he handed Ian a stein.

Ian took a sniff. Definitely cider; hard cider. "Thanks," he said appreciatively and took a drink, happy to just listen to everyone discuss what they had just consumed, and what competitions would be going on this afternoon.

Ian watched his grandfather sip his cider –not hard cider; never hard cider in his memory. Only now Ian knew the full story behind why. Feeling uncomfortable, he turned his thoughts elsewhere.

A pretty face with dark eyes caught his immediate attention. He knew those features, though he hadn't seen her in a couple of years. Getting up from the table –he didn't think they even noticed his absence- Ian wove through the crowd until he was right behind her. "Guess who," he grinned, putting his hands up around her head to cover her eyes.

At first, Jessica Norris squealed then she stopped, and laughed. She brought her hands up to pull his down as she turned around. He didn't stop her. "Ian!" She beamed at him, then enveloped him in a tight hug. "It's been forever."

"Not quite that long," Ian chuckled, though he returned the hug. "You look amazing, Jess." She had been a cute kid, but she really was a fabulous looking woman. Even as a young teen he'd had good taste.

"Glad you think so," she smiled, stepping back and straightening the shades perched on top of her head. The sophisticated emerald green, clingy sweater and black slacks were very becoming. "I'm glad to see you out and around."

"You could have come by," Ian pointed out. So he hadn't really been into town, but he'd been home for weeks.

"I thought about it," Jessica replied. "But your Mom's been giving off momma-bear vibes anytime anyone mentions you and made it pretty clear that you weren't to be bothered."

"Don't tell me you're intimidated by my Mom," Ian chuckled.

"Maybe a little." Jessie shrugged, and then chuckled. "Maybe I was a little worried you wouldn't want to talk a home-town girl anymore."

"Why wouldn't I?" Ian asked, surprised and slightly offended. "You should know me better than that, Jess." They'd done so much together as kids; plays, going out a few times. They were friends. Okay, so perhaps he was a lousy correspondent.

"Because you're the hottest thing on the screen, and I'm lucky to get modeling jobs."

"Well there's not a lot of work around here. Have you tried bigger cities?" Ian asked. Jessica had always been talented and pretty. He'd been surprised when she had stayed in Resembool.

"I spent a few months in East City," she admitted. "But I couldn't get much work. I've been a few places, going wherever I can find a gig."

"Come to Central," Ian suggested. "There are always auditions for shows going on. Even if you start with bit parts, it gets you noticed. You're talented."

He wondered if he had said something wrong, wide as her eyes got for a moment. Then Jessica smiled. "That means a lot, coming from you. Maybe I will."

"Hey, Jessica!" someone shouted through the crowd.

"Oh, that's my sister. Sorry. I promised her some time while I'm here." Jessica looked honestly sorry. "Maybe we can catch up later?"

"Sure," Ian agreed.

"Good." Jessica stood up a little on her toes and dropped a kiss on his cheek. "I'm really glad you're all right, Ian." Then she vanished through the crowd.

He wasn't sure what he had expected from the encounter, but Ian couldn't complain. He returned to the table to find that most of the guys had finished their drinks.

"You ready to take me on?" his grandpa asked with a wicked smile as Ian arrived.

"At what?" Ian asked cautiously. He didn't like that look on Ed's face. It meant trouble.

Ed stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. "Pie eating contest. I almost never have any real competition. Your father won't even challenge me."

"I'm not that stupid," Aldon laughed. "I don't even have room left after the judging. I'd never be able to cram down a whole pie."

"Unlike you." His grandfather's grin had gone almost feral. "So I'm challenging you."

Ian laughed as his stomach grumbled audibly. "Sure, why not?"

* * *

_I am never going to do that again,_ Ian promised himself later that evening as he lay on one of the old living room couches, seriously contemplating never moving again. He had actually _beaten_ his grandpa in the pie eating contest, but he wasn't sure it was worth it. Especially not when he had gotten home and remembered dinner. _Reggie would laugh at me. I actually have a limit._

The humor in his thought died.

"No long faces."

Ian looked up at Urey, who was crashed out on the other half of the couch. "Sorry."

Urey's expression turned sympathetic. "I could have told you challenging Grandpa was a bad idea. I've done it before."

"That's not it," Ian admitted. "Though that wasn't my smartest move. I may never get off this couch again. Where were _you_ the whole time anyway?"

Urey smiled. "Cayla wanted to see the new baby animals. They don't have a lot of lambs and bunnies in the city."

"You gave up pie for fluffy animals?"

"I avoided a stomach ache and three weeks of dieting to enjoy a good time with my girl." For once, at least, Urey didn't look offended. Instead he smiled and shrugged. "I think I won that contest."

"Yeah, I think you did," Ian replied, looking at his brother with slight wonderment. At least until his stomach twinged and he grimaced.

Urey's expression turned to one of concern. "You really did overdo it, didn't you? Hold on a second."

Ian watched Urey nearly bound up off the couch with a feeling of irony at the fact that Urey, of all people, was the only guy in the family who could still move after a feast of that proportion. He watched his brother putter around the kitchen for a few minutes, he heard chopping, mixing, saw a short flare of alchemy, and when Urey returned he had a glass of something that looked… green. Ian swallowed. "That doesn't look appetizing."

"It's not that bad, and it'll help. Just try it." Urey gave him a smug look. "Trust me."

"All right." Even though he wasn't sure where he'd put it, Ian drank the concoction down, and waited. Slowly, he did begin to feel better. "Wow, what is that stuff?"

"Herbal remedy we learned about in botany," Urey replied as he took back the glass. "Eases digestion and soothes the system."

"I'm impressed," Ian replied, meaning it. "I don't suppose you've got something like that for nightmares."

"There are some that can help you sleep," Urey replied with an apologetic shake of his head. "But I can't promise they'll help the dreams. Have you tried asking Grandpa about Xing meditation techniques? He knows a lot about calming the mind. Maybe that will help."

Ian hadn't even thought about that. Grandpa must know a lot, to be as happy as he was now despite everything he'd been through. "I'll try that. Thanks." He hadn't had any better ideas, and drinking himself insensible didn't appeal as a potential solution.

Whatever Urey had been about to say next was interrupted by the ringing phone. "I've got it," Urey smiled as he crossed the room.

Aldon, dozing in his chair, opened one eye but didn't move. Ted, on the other couch, didn't budge. Ian wasn't sure where his mother and Cayla and Callie had gotten to, but his mother appeared in the hallway as Urey got to the phone first.

"Elric residence. Oh, hey! I was wondering when we'd hear from you." Urey grinned. "Finally happened? Good! That's great. Here, you want to talk to Mom or Dad first?"

"Me," Cassie butted in, taking the phone right out of her son's hand. "Hello, Coran? How's Gale?"

Urey backed up with a chuckle. From down the hall, Callie and Cayla appeared. "What's going on?" Callie asked.

"Gale had the baby this morning," Urey explained to the rest of the room, though Ian noticed he smiled particularly at Cayla, whose face lit up. "It's a boy, of course."

"Of course," Aldon grunted from his chair, though he smiled. "Does my new grandson have a name?"

"Damian," Urey informed them.

"Good name." Aldon stood up to join his wife by the phone, where she was talking animatedly.

"Good thing they weren't set on a girl," Ian chuckled.

"In our family they're pretty rare," Urey agreed.

"That's all right," Cayla smiled up at Urey. "I like boys."

Ian laughed at the momentarily blank look on Urey's face. "Look out, Urey. It might be catching."

**October 23****rd****, 1977**

Edward watched Ian as his grandson sat on a large, flat stone by the river. His legs were crossed, his eyes closed. In the early dawn, the only sounds were the occasional chirp of a song bird, and the rippling burble of the water against the rocks. It was actually a good sign of healing, Ed thought, that Ian could actually sit in that position. They had worked for two days to get that far, stretching and practicing and going over various mental exercises for relaxation, for emptying the mind, for coming to terms with things and being able to think through them clearly.

He was glad he remembered the things Old Bao had taught him. He was happier that Ian had sought him out for help, even after what he had told him about his own past. Ian had always been the most confident of the boys, naturally calm inside despite having plenty of energy and passion. Ed didn't think it would be as hard for Ian as it would have been for some, to move past this.

The rosy-orange sky shifted through the spectrum towards the blue of full morning behind the shadowed green of the pines.

Ian gave a particularly pronounced breath and opened his eyes.

Ed nodded. "Well?"

Ian met his eyes. "I think… it's time to go back to work."

"Why is that?"

"Because as much as I like spending time with everyone, I miss it," Ian admitted. "I didn't at first, but I do now. I can't hide forever, and that's what it feels like I'm doing. I'm well enough to work, as long as I don't have to do my own stunts." He shrugged. "And it's something I need to do. No matter how long I stay here, all the memories, everything that happened, it's not going to go away. Whenever I go back, I'm going to have to face the press and my friends. The longer I wait, the less I might want to."

"Sound logic." Ed saw no reason to disagree with any of it. "And you're okay with that?"

"I am." Ian stood up carefully, and took a long look at the trees. "But I should come home more often too. I missed everyone more than I realized and it helps keep the rest of the world in perspective."

Ed smiled approvingly. "Sometimes perspective is what we need most."

**November 2****nd****, 1977**

"Oh my god, Ian!"

Carmen's shrill shout seemed to fill the entire space between sound stages. Ian winced only slightly over two dozen heads turned in his direction. _So much for making it to Tanner's office unnoticed. _A moment later she tackled him in a hug that was surprisingly gentle despite the force with which she hit.

"Oof. Easy!" He squeaked, though he hugged her back.

"Are you all right?" She looked up at him, wide eyed with concern. Tina was right behind her, looking just as surprised to see him, and nearly as worried. "When we heard… oh god…and then no one heard from you. Why didn't you call? All we heard was a rumor you were at your parents?"

"Carmen!" Ian cut her off, but the babbling had cut something off inside of him. He wanted to laugh and to cry all at once. "I've been spoiled by my mother for two months. If that doesn't count as all right I don't know what does." _My head I'm still working on, but that's another story._ One he wasn't about to tell with the crowd forming around him; people shouting greetings, though thankfully few questions. Here, at least, there was some respect for privacy. "Can I talk to you two in private for a minute?" he asked, as it occurred to him that this was the perfect opportunity to get a few of his burning questions answered.

Carmen looked startled. "Sure. My dressing room's right over here." She led Ian and Tina to her trailer and closed the door.

"What did you want to talk about?" Tina asked as she gave Ian her own brief hug.

"Were you the ones who told the press Reggie had a huge list of girlfriends?"

Both girls blinked in surprise. Carmen nodded. "Yeah, that was us."

"Why?"

"Because they were saying horrible things about him," Carmen replied, slightly irritated. "It was bad enough he was… you know. I still can't believe it." She paused and shook her head.

"We wanted to kill the rumors about you and him," Tina said softly. "We knew it wasn't true, and that it would probably upset you."

Ian took a deep breath. This was harder than he'd expected. "Was… was there any truth to the rumor?" He looked between the girls. They had been close for years, the four of them. They had known Reggie as well as he did. Or he thought they did. If he had missed something…

Tina looked uncomfortable. "Honestly, I don't know. He definitely liked girls, but…"

"But?"

"You meant a lot to him," Tina finished. "I know he thought of you as his best friend. If it was more than that, I honestly can't say. He never showed interest in any other guys. Does it matter?"

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Ian sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. "But I saw it in the paper, and it just seemed to come out of nowhere. Just like finding out he was high. I had no idea. If I had…"

"You wouldn't have let him get in that car, and you'd have kicked his ass for real," Carmen said with surprisingly fierce conviction. "We know that, Ian. We didn't know either. I have no idea how long that might have been going on, and it kills me." He was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "And we can never ask him." A moment later, she collapsed in his arms, sobbing.

Startled, Ian let one arm fold around her, and was almost as surprised when Tina moved in and hugged them both. He hugged her with his other arm, and held them both close. None of them had known, and they probably never would. But they still had each other, and neither of them blamed him for what happened.

He couldn't imagine that it had been worth it, but he hoped Reggie hadn't suffered, and that somewhere, somehow, he had found peace.

Ian held the girls and cried.


End file.
